In Sickness
by Rydia Asuka
Summary: The world didn't end when Adolin Kholin lost his leg to a school shooting, but recovering from such an event is never easy. Though the attractive, if obnoxious, nurse kicking around doesn't hurt anything...
1. Chapter 1

**WARNINGS FOR RACISM/POTENTIALLY RACIST LANGUAGE IN THIS FIC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

 _I would like to thank my friends secretbraintwin, for help with medical knowledge, and reaby, for agreeing to help my pasty white butt with ensuring racist events are treated with all due respect and consideration.  
_

 _Rating will likely change. ;3_

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own The Stormlight Archive. All affiliated characters are property of Brandon Sanderson and Tor Fantasy. Not copyright infringement is intended; no profit is being made.

* * *

Adolin regained conscious slowly, his thoughts feeling thick and muddled—kind of like that time he'd fallen into a swamp and Renarin and Jakamav had to pull him out. Like that, only with his...thoughts.

He stared at the sky. There was a lovely rainbow today. It kept moving every time he blinked, though, and sometimes the colours inverted. The sun was nice today, though, and it didn't even burn his eyes.

"Still with us, Highness? Or...back with us?"

"...God?" His voice was croaking, dry. He needed the rain. It could get _everything_ wet... Too bad he'd missed it.

"Yeah. God here. Wondering how you're feeling."

"...rain? It should rain again."

"Right. Okay. I'll mention to the doc to turn down your IV drip..."

Adolin continued to stare at the sun. What a nice day...

"Okay, seriously Kholin. We need a proper exam. How many fingers am I holding up?"

"He's not concussed, Kaladin."

A new voice? And there was something blocking the sun...

"You sure? I suspect a head injury."

"Head injury? I don't think so. He's just high as a kite on opiates."

A soft grunt. "I hadn't noticed."

"Look...go get the family. Tell them he's awake and they can come in."

"Whatever you say, doc."

* * *

Kaladin strode to the waiting room, where an older man and a young man sat quietly in the uncomfortable hospital chairs. The father and brother, respectively. The young man napped on his father's shoulder, while his father sat dozing with chin to chest.

Kaladin strode over to them. "Dalinar Kholin?"

The man's pale eyes cracked open, then he sat up hurriedly, nearly dislodging his son in the process.

"Uh, doctor?"

"Nurse," he corrected, watching while the young man sat up also, a serious look on his face while he fixed his glasses. "Doctor Taravangian sent me to tell you Adolin is awake."

That really woke them both up. "Can we—?"

"Yes, for a short time."

"Should I call Aunt Navani, Father?"

"I will, Renarin," Dalinar assured. "After we see your brother." The man's attention then redirected to Kaladin.

"How is he, do—excuse me, Nurse...?"

"Kaladin. Kaladin Storm. And he's...high as a kite, but his vitals are good."

"Does he know about...?"

"He thinks I'm God," Kaladin said frankly. "He also muttered something about pretty rainbows, I think."

"I don't appreciate the humour, Nurse Storm."

"No, he doesn't know. We'll tell him once he's more coherent. It shouldn't be long," he said, leading them to the room. "His body just needs to metabolise some of the painkiller out of his system."

Opening the door, he motioned them inside.

The little brother hurried over. Adolin, whose eyes were looking a little more focussed, looked surprised, and then smiled.

Dalinar nodded to Kaladin, then strode over to the doctor, thanking him profusely. Kaladin paid little mind, however, as he kept his gaze on the two brothers.

Renarin took his brother's hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. Kaladin forced back a stab of jealousy at the scene. This was a good thing. Jealousy was unnecessary. Just because Tien was...

He turned his attention back to the father. Dalinar Kholin was a man with bearing, straight-backed and head high, shoulders set and feet squared. If he hadn't been a cop, Kaladin could almost have liked him. His status put a significant damper on Kaladin's opinion of him, however, even if he _was_ the city's first black police chief. A step forward, but...forgiveness did not come easily to him.

Doctor Taravangian gestured to him, and with one last glance, he followed the man out into the hallway. Time to give the family some alone time.

* * *

It had been about an hour since he had awakened, and Adolin's head was finally clearing. He was fully certain, now, that he was in a hospital. Not...Heaven. Or a field? Honestly, he wasn't even sure what he had thought, before. Whatever it was, it hadn't been hospital.

"Son? How are you feeling?"

Groaning softly, he turned his head away from his brother, gaze seeking his father—there. He offered a weak smile.

"I...really mucked up this time, huh?" Why did Dalinar look so...pensive? "What's the...doctor saying?" Damn, did his voice ever sound dry.

"You...should make a full recovery, however..." Yes, pensive, and a touch evasive. Not like his father. "There is one...other thing."

His head still felt foggy, and he was tired and thirsty. "Just say it. Did I...offend someone? They want me in...court?" Good grief, he could barely remember what had happened.

"No, Adolin, it's nothing like that..."

"So? What...?"

Renarin caught his hand, squeezing.

"They couldn't save your leg, son..."

Adolin blinked. His thoughts were foggy and muddled. He could almost swear his father had said... Reaching for a cup of water someone had left for him, he drank it down to calm his nerves.

"...say again?"

"Adolin...you lost your leg." The hesitation in his father's voice wasn't right. Renarin wouldn't make eye contact. Why...?

He pushed himself up on his elbows—and it was damn _hard_ —to look down at his own body. Sure enough, the sheets showed the shape of his entire right leg, but the lump ended suspiciously just above the knee on the left. He swallowed.

"I...can still feel it."

"That's normal," Renarin quickly supplied, always more comfortable with book facts than real emotions. "Phantom limb is the psychological term. Your body will take time to realise it's gone, and even still it may never fully adjust..."

Renarin's voice was shaking as he spoke, a fact Adolin didn't miss. His head had cleared with the news, and without missing a beat, he plastered on a smile for the benefit of his brother.

"Hit the books as soon as you heard, huh? Well, fine. I'll just have to get a peg leg and take up piracy. Which eye should I put the patch on? And you'll have to help me name my parrot, Ren."

Silence followed his words, and Adolin dropped back to the pillows. That little tirade had taken everything, every last bit of willpower he had. Passing an arm over his eyes, he sighed. "Someone laugh."

"Adolin..."

"Son..."

His other arm hit the mattress. "Trying, here. You could meet me halfway."

"...how about Gallant? For the parrot?"

Adolin forced his smile back, lowering the arm over his eyes. "That sounds like something father would name it."

Dalinar raised a brow, but said nothing in response.

"What would you name it?"

"I'm a pirate, right? How about...Sureblood."

"That's a dumb name for a parrot."

Adolin huffed. "Good thing you're not the pirate..."

The nurse came in not long after, urging his family out, and promising to notify them if anything came up. For now, visiting hours were over. The good news, though, was that it seemed Adolin was fit to be moved to a hospital closer to his home.

With promises to see him in the morning, his father and brother left, looking more relaxed than he imagined they had been since the accident earlier in the day. Good. Though now he was stuck with nothing but his own thoughts. Oh, they'd brought him a few magazines, his phone, and his Nintendo DS, but...frankly, focussing on any of that would be impossible right now.

Sighing, he cut a glance at the set of blue scrubs bustling around the room. "Who're you?"

"God, remember?"

Adolin flushed, then huffed. "It's rude to mock a man for being a little drugged."

"A little?" The man turned to look at him, and Adolin stopped paying attention. The nurse was tall, ridiculously so, with dark, curly hair and intelligent, brown eyes. He was, frankly, gorgeous.

"In there, rich boy?"

"Huh?"

"I said—oh, never mind. How are you feeling? Any pain?"

"Oh, uh...no, not really."

"Fine. Just let someone know if it comes back. Frankly, you're more entertaining drugged off your rocker."

Adolin frowned. "Is your bedside manner this bad for all your patients?"

"Only the obnoxious ones."

"...you have a problem with me, nurse boy?"

"Nurse boy? What happened to 'God'?"

"He turned out to be a rude prick."

"I think you're mistaking the mirror for me."

The nurse hesitated, then a small smirk curled his lips. "Not bad, rich boy."

Not sure what had happened, Adolin's brow furrowed. "...thanks?"

"Don't mention it. Now, get some rest. Someone will be in to move you in the morning, but you're free to do whatever you like until then—you know, other than getting out of bed."

He scoffed. "...right."

"Buzzer's there if you need anything. Now, I have to—"

"Wait." A cocked brow urged him to continue. "Can't you stay? I—" It was easier not to dwell on the...phenomenally bad news with someone to talk to. Even hot, obnoxious nurses.

"Some of us work for a living, rich boy."

"I'm not—" Okay, they were a little rich. "I work."

"Right. Instead of working your mouth any more, why don't you get some sleep. See you later."

The door clicked shut, and Adolin's protest died on his lips. Staring after the nurse, he sat in silence, with nothing but his thoughts for company.

...it was easier to be optimistic when he had someone to be strong for.


	2. Chapter 2

"Have a good night?"

Adolin cracked an eye. Waking up was always hard, the meds sitting heavily on him when he slept. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up slowly.

"...you again."

"Seems that way," the annoying nurse, whose name he still didn't know, replied.

"What time is it?"

"Time to get going."

"What, no breakfast first?" he countered.

"You hungry?"

"If I am?"

"I can offer lime Jell-O."

Adolin stared at him for a moment. "Can I have something real at the next place?"

"They might have grape?"

"Never mind. Let's just go. At least I'm getting away from you."

"No such luck." The man was speaking while fiddling with machines, unhooking some, and wrapping wires on others. "I'm from Southside General." The hospital he was moving to. "Came here to help out because of the understaffing problem, then got assigned to you so I could just move back over with you after your surgery."

"Great." He was pleased. The man was amusing, and, Adolin sensed, a lot less abrasive than he acted.

A different doctor stepped into the room, conferring with the nurse. A little later, they were wheeling him out to the ambulance.

"So, got a name, Nurse Boy?"

"Storm. Kaladin Storm," the man muttered, keeping his gaze ahead as he carefully wheeled the bed.

"Weird name."

"Like yours is any better, _Eeeeh_ -dolin."

Adolin groaned. "That bullet should have taken me in the head."

He was rewarded with a laugh from the nurse—Kaladin. He found himself smiling in response.

* * *

His patient's family stopped by just before Kaladin headed home for the day. He had a whole twelve hours off until his next shift, and he intended to spend most of them asleep.

Before departing, he stopped by to bid farewell to the unfairly attractive blond. Adolin greeted him with that cheeky grin, and the family with polite nods. With a nod, he stepped out.

...that had been one fast twenty-four hour shift, he had to admit. The call had come in around noon the previous day. Kaladin didn't know exactly what had gone on, but a cop had been shot—that cop was Adolin. He'd been rushed in by ambulance to Northside General Hospital. It was farther away, but the hospital itself was better equipped for dealing with the major surgery he had needed.

Incidentally, Kaladin had been helping out at the larger, and more crowded, hospital for the week. When the decision to move Adolin once he stabilised had been made, it had also been decided to assign him Kaladin. Between being registered for rehab, and working for the hospital where Adolin would be staying long-term, it had been a no brainer to send him back to his home turf with the young cop.

Right now, though, he was more interested in sleep. He had been pulling incredibly long hours at Northside. Between that and the double-shift he'd just finished, he was exhausted.

At barely one in the afternoon, he fell into bed and promptly passed out.

He rolled out of bed around half past eight that night. One cold shower later, and he was almost civil. Wearing nothing more than his bathrobe, he wandered into the kitchen and tossed a microwaveable dinner into the microwave. Good enough.

By nine that night, he was settled into his la-z-boy with supper and his cat, flicking through the channels. He settled for the nine o'clock news.

Somalia was in a bad state, another bombing in the England subways, more war in Africa...

Dammit all. Couldn't they ever report anything _positive?_

At nine-thirty, the local news came on, and he found himself paying a little more attention, hoping to hear the truth of what had happened with his cop.

"Mrow?"

Chuckling, he scratched Syl's ears. The white cat began purring, content on his lap. She dozed while he watched.

"...Hearthstone High at eleven fifty-seven am." Having fallen into a doze, Kaladin roused at the announcer's words. Yawning, he turned his full attention to the television. "—no students were hurt, thankfully, only one officer of the law. He managed to subdue the shooter before real harm was done."

"Well, I'm sure the officer doesn't agree that real harm wasn't done," the news anchor countered. No shit.

"No, but no children went home in body bags. That's a victory."

"True enough. Do we have a name for this valiant police man?"

"Unfortunately, his name is being withheld pending further investigation. I am certain that the faculty and students at Hearthstone High will forever view him as a hero, however."

"Likely a well deserved title. In other news..."

Kaladin changed the channel, letting Jeopardy play on a low volume. A school shooting? He'd heard the rumours, but...

That just didn't happen here. It was terrifying. Maybe rich boy had done well.

Too bad he was still a cop.

He watched the T.V. with half an eye until it was time to head to work again. Grabbing the bag with his scrubs, he dragged himself back to his car and headed back to the hospital.

It was dim by the time he arrived, most of the rooms lit only by the machinery they contained. In stark contrast to the brightly lit ER and waiting rooms, the hallways in the observation area were lit only by the dim night time lighting, allowing the patients rest.

Greeting the receptionist, a friendly man named Lopin, whom he'd known for years, with a nod, he continued on to Adolin's room. Carefully, he pushed the door open...and paused. Pushing the door open fully, he folded his arms.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

Adolin shrugged, setting down his game. "Slept all afternoon. Couldn't rest now."

Not all that uncommon. A lot of people actually got more unsettled in the hospital once it got quiet and the lights went out. Kaladin just hadn't expected it from Adolin.

"All right, well...just keep it down." The blond had a private room, so it wasn't like he would be disturbing anyone else.

"Wait...nur—Kaladin. Come in for a sec."

Suppressing a sigh—he had rounds to do, and friends to catch up with—he stepped inside and shut the door.

"Yeah?"

"Uh...how was your day?"

Kaladin raised a brow. "...I spent most of it asleep."

"Don't get much time off, do you?"

"I pulled a double. I have a few days off coming up."

"Oh, yeah...right. That makes sense. You...like your job?"

Kaladin raised a brow. "...well enough. What is this really about?"

"...nothing, I guess. Just had a long day."

"Being bedridden sucks, but they'll get you started on therapy as soon as possible."

"Yeah. I never did well lying around all day."

"You have a good family. They'll help you through it."

Adolin looked down, and Kaladin found himself stepping closer.

"...they're...busy a lot. No big deal, though."

"...you okay, rich boy?" Kaladin asked, brow furrowed.

"Of course, just...missing a leg."

Kaladin settled into the chair beside the bed. "...big change, huh?"

Adolin forced a chuckle, his attractive smile shadowed by the dim lighting. Shadows or not, it was not hard to see that it was forced. "Only about...twenty percent of my body."

"Ten."

"Fifteen."

"Whatever. Moderate change, then."

"No, still a big one." He caught the flash of white teeth as Adolin grinned cheekily at him.

Good-naturedly, Kaladin rolled his eyes. "Insufferable rich boy."

"So, moderately large change. How you coping?"

"It...sucks," Adolin admitted, smile slipping. "I have to be strong for Renarin, though. He looks up to me."

"...yeah, right, I get it." _Tien._ "How are they doing?"

Adolin shrugged. "They didn't stop in for long. Father got called in to work, and Renarin has a lot of schoolwork to do. He's working on his thesis, and finals start soon..."

Well, that explained why he was so desperate for company—even if it was a tad inconvenient. Kaladin understood something about feeling lonely.

"...you, uh..."

"...listen to me, whining. You probably have work to do. I'm just holding you up."

"Yeah. You were my first stop. I still have the rest of my round to do."

"Go on. Have a good shift."

Somewhat reluctantly, Kaladin rose and bid the patient farewell. Then he continued his rounds. With everyone asleep, it went fairly quickly, just a quick check of the charts and glance to each patient. A few needed to be woken for meds, and one woman stopped him for help with the bedpan, but overall it went smoothly.

Then it was a trip to the staff room. He spent some time catching up with his coworkers, then headed back to Kholin's room. The man should be asleep by now...

"Nurse boy?"

"Still awake?"

"...yeah. Couldn't get to sleep."

Kaladin stepped inside. "Brought you something."

Adolin sat up at that, watching Kaladin as he wandered towards the T.V. "What is it?"

"Patience."

Adolin scoffed. "You're a jerk."

"I'll just take it and go, then," he said, hitting play anyway. Moving back to the chair he'd vacated earlier, he settled into it.

"...this is The Lion King."

"Yup."

"The Lion King."

"Right again."

"The _Lion King_."

"Hasn't changed."

"...why?"

"We have a large collection for kids."

"Yeah, bu—"

"—I can go, if you want," he remarked idly.

"...The Lion King it is."

"Thought so."

"Hey...Kaladin?"

He grunted in acknowledgement.

"Thanks."

He nodded once. "Nothing better to do."

"Right. Still. Thanks."


	3. Chapter 3

Adolin stared blankly at his leg—or, what was left of it. Alone with his thoughts, again, he had tossed aside the blankets and kept his gaze riveted on the stump of his leg. He could barely remember the incident. According to Renarin, it was likely a combination of the shock and the medication used to knock him out that had stopped any clear memory from forming. He remembered some things, however...

Emotions, most of all. He had been afraid, but determined; from the moment he had first received the call, to the moment he passed out, he had felt an overwhelming need to _protect_.

What possessed this country's negligent gun control? That a seventeen-year-old could walk into a school with a pistol was revolting for so many reasons...

None of the children had been hurt, both his memories and the police reports agreed on that. He had arrived with his partner in time to stop the teenager from doing more than yelling threats and waving the weapon around, but somewhere along the way...Adolin had been shot. It had been above the knee, apparently, and shattered the femur irreparably. There had been no chance to of putting it back together; amputation had been his only chance.

...it had saved him, but at a high cost. Still, alive was certainly better than dead. He would try to make the most of it. Later.

When he was finished moping.

Reaching down, he ran a hand over the pristine bandages. His leg... _really_ felt like it was still there. It would be so easy to swing his legs over the side of the bed and stand up. Only the sight before his eyes kept him from doing so.

"Ah, Adolin Kholin? You're looking better," a cheerful woman announced. He hadn't heard her enter the room, and he didn't recognise her. "My name is Maria. I'll be your nurse while Kaladin is off for the next few days."

Kaladin was off? Wait, the man had told him that he had a few days off. Right, he remembered that, now. Still. It was disappointing. He enjoyed Kaladin's wry humour and sharp tongue. And company.

"What do you say, about ready to get out of bed?"

That perked him up, temporarily banishing thoughts of Kaladin. "I can? How—?"

She smiled, stepping aside to gesture to a wheelchair parked out in the hallway.

"Going to take me on the grand tour?" he asked, shooting her his most winning smile. Still, it would have been nice to have someone to share this moment with. His father was at work, and his brother had a study group, though.

She chuckled, the faintest blush coming to her cheeks. "If you want. I figured you had to be getting tired of the ceiling."

"The whole room is disappointingly..."

"White?"

"Yes. White." He broadened the smile, the familiar action of flirting taking his mind from other matters.

"Well then, perhaps we'll visit the children's wing. They love a new face, you're not contagious, and there's colour."

"That sounds fantastic."

She met his smile, helping him into the wheelchair. Despite his flirting, he could not help but wish it was anyone else. Renarin, Father, his cousins, Jasnah and Elhokar, Shallan...or even the other nurse, but they weren't here so he would take what he could. And, dammit, he would smile while he did!

For the next three days, they visited the fourth floor, the children's floor, every day for an hour. It was a refreshing change, and once Renarin even took him. In addition, the nurse began teaching him some simple exercises to keep his body limber, and to begin moving the stump. They had placed restraining bands around what was left of the limb the day before, to keep the muscles from atrophying too much. There was also promise that the exercises would get more in-depth, but for now it was kept simple, so as not to aggravate the healing injury.

He kept his mind focussed on recovery, trying not to let depression crush him too much. At nights, though, when he was alone and it was quiet...that was when he let himself grieve for his lost independence.

Adolin had never been the sort to look down on disabled people. No, in fact he had always admired the will to push on despite disability. Now, though, as he struggled to cope with his own amputation...it crushed in him in a way that was difficult to describe. The ability to see disability in a positive light was completely overshadowed by the feelings of loss and helplessness crushing him recently.

It wasn't...fair.

In the days, he smiled for them. During the nights...he grieved for him.

On the fourth day, the nurse that showed up to check on him was not Maria.

"How you feeling, rich boy?"

Despite himself, Adolin found himself grinning. Not a half-hearted smile, or a flirtatious one...but an honest, open grin.

"Decided to rejoin us, huh nurse boy?"

"Unfortunately," Kaladin remarked, checking the IV. "Off your pain meds yet?"

"I get some when it hurts, but—"

"Yeah, yeah, I read the file."

Adolin scoffed. "So why ask?"

"Because I wanted to remind you that I'm God," the man replied blandly.

Adolin frowned. "Okay, less funny, more offensive."

Kaladin shrugged. "It's who I am."

"Good grief, and I was happy to see you."

"Nabbed a copy of the third Hobbit movie..."

"Getting happy again."

After their exciting viewing of _The Lion King_ several days before, they had chatted briefly about their interests in movies. They had agreed on an interest in fantasy films. Kaladin, it seemed, had remembered that Adolin had missed seeing the movie in theatres.

Kaladin's lips quirked in a knowing smirk. "Try not to worship me _too_ mu—hey!"

Adolin scoffed, watching the magazine he hadn't been reading tumble to the floor at Kaladin's feet. "You have a high opinion of yourself."

Kaladin snorted. "Not really, but you're fun to tease."

Adolin rolled his eyes, laying back. "Right. Well. Make yourself useful and...get me Jell-O."

"...maybe after your physiotherapy session. Mind telling me what you've done so far?"

To business, then. Adolin explained everything he'd been doing, and at the end, Kaladin sighed.

"Useless...look, forget all that. I've drafted a recovery plan for you."

"And what do you know about this?" he challenged.

"More than her. Rehab is what I was trained in. Want to go for a walk while we talk about what you need to do?"

"...can we not go to floor four." He liked kids, but good grief...

"How about the roof?"

Adolin grinned. "Let's go."

* * *

The roof was nice, Kaladin thought, watching Adolin stare out over the city. The poor man probably hadn't been outside in days, and Kaladin couldn't care less that they weren't really allowed out here.

"How were your days off?"

Kaladin grunted, shrugging. "Fine?"

"What did you do?"

Confused, Kaladin asked, "...why?"

"Forgive a guy for trying to make a friend..."

"You're really that bored?"

"I'm that bored."

Kaladin grinned. "Well, let's see what we can do about that..."

They went back inside, Kaladin unabashedly wheeling Adolin through the halls. He took the blond to meet some of his friends on-staff, before sneaking him down to the Starbucks.

"We're not allowed to be here, are we?"

Kaladin shrugged. "I won't tell if you don't..."

"Oh hell yes. _Coffee_."

Kaladin found himself grinning at the eagerness in his expression. "Anything else? On me."

Adolin quirked a brow, then shrugged. "Anything's better than hospital food."

Kaladin stepped forward, placed their order, then wheeled Adolin over to a table, shoving a chair out of the way to park him. Leaving the blond, he collected their tray and carried it over, setting it on the table and taking his own seat.

"...why are you doing all this?"

Unfazed by the question, he shrugged. "You seem like you need a friend," he replied simply.

"...am I that pathetic?" Adolin asked, voice uncharacteristically quiet.

"You are pretty sorry looking, all eighty-five percent of you," Adolin snorted, which Kaladin ignored the interruption, "but mostly you're decent company."

"Thanks?"

Kaladin smirked over the rim of his cup. "Do none of your other friends ever stop by?"

"Of course they do," Adolin muttered, clearly offended. "They have jobs, though..."

"Right. And it's literally my job to babysit you."

"...you're really obnoxious."

"You're welcome for the food."

Adolin sent him a glare. "I can't decide if I should like you, or hate you."

"That sounds like quite the conundrum."

"Definitely hate."

Kaladin chuckled. "I'll take you back to your room, then..."

"Don't you dare, nurse boy."

"I thought you hated me."

"Not as much as I hate that room..."


	4. Chapter 4

_Big thanks to Reaby for her help with this chapter._

 _ **Warnings for racist discussions and implications.**_

 _This chapter would have been up a few days ago, except I got kicked by a horse. In the hand. It's, uh...put a damper on my writing hahah... Admittedly, most of the story is written, but I'm kinda slow on the updates. The reason is simple: I'm disappointed in the response I'm getting on this story. At the risk of sounding whiny, I will update faster if you comment. It's as simple as that._

 _Thank you to those of you who do. Writing is a lot of work, and I appreciate the feedback more than I can say._

* * *

Kaladin stepped around two uniformed officers, ducking into Adolin's room. Frankly, he was surprised he hadn't seen any earlier, given the nature of the young policeman's stay.

One of the men glanced at him, but after a moment they returned to their whispered conversation, leaving Kaladin to his work. He went about his business, back to them to give them their privacy. He could not turn off his ears, however.

"You're kidding me. You have got to be _fucking kidding me_ ," Adolin was saying, sounding tense.

"It's the official stance taken by the government and media—"

"No shit," Adolin's voice replied. "But I guess I shouldn't be surprised. White boys can't be the problem..."

"Oh come on, Adolin, calm down..."

"Oh, shut up Saunders. You don't get it."

"...I mean, it's shit, what happened to you, but it's unprofessional to throw a tantrum."

"That kid walked into that school intending to shoot those students. I remember that clearly enough. And they're—" Adolin sighed in frustration. "Why did I bother thinking it could be different?"

"Not much you can do about it from here. Just...get better, okay? And try not to stress too much."

"...right. I'll get on it," Adolin muttered back cynically, sarcasm thick in his tone.

One of the men sighed. "Whatever you want, Kholin. See ya 'round."

Once the two had left, Kaladin turned back, moving to check the machines.

"I can't fuckin' believe it. How could they _do this_?"

Sighing, Kaladin sat down on the edge of the bed. The blond seemed genuinely distraught, so in response, Kaladin dropped all pretence of play and teasing. "You okay, Adolin?"

"Oh, just terrific. Great."

"...right."

He scoffed. "You know what happened?"

"...when you," he gestured to the missing leg, "you know?"

"Yeah. Then."

"I know the gist of it."

"So you know it was a white kid?"

Kaladin hesitated, then nodded slowly. It had been the talk of the city recently. The high school that had been attacked had been in a black neighbourhood, and some arrogant, probably rich, white boy had decided to take certain matters—fucking racism, Kaladin decided. No sense buttering it up—into his own hands.

"Yeah, well, that kid, the one who did it? They're pleading self-defence."

Kaladin turned, meeting Adolin's eyes. "They're— _what_?"

"Yeah. The kid's parents are claiming he was attacked for showing up on the school grounds—you know, for being fucking white."

"So this...what, becomes the victims' fault?"

"...basically, yeah."

"Fuck," Kaladin muttered. "I see why you're pissed off. How can they even get away with that plea?"

"Because he never actually shot any of the students, they can get away with arguing that he never went intending to cause harm. It'll lessen the charge to just carrying a concealed weapon and self-defence, rather than attempted manslaughter."

"And shooting a cop?"

"We can make a case out of that, and I plan to try. But the court will probably sympathise with the defendant."

Of course. That went without saying. Kaladin shook his head. "If you need someone to testify about your injuries..."

Adolin looked surprised for a moment, then he smiled. "...thanks. I might take you up on that."

"What about the school? What's it saying?"

"Quiet, so far. The department probably isn't going to side with me, so they might want to stay out of it..."

"Wait, the school department?"

"No—precinct."

"...your own coworkers aren't on your side?"

"They don't see it that way," Adolin muttered. "The kid's parents and friends will say he was in danger, and the precinct might just eat it up."

"Right. Because a white kid can't ever be to blame."

Adolin scoffed. "Pretty much."

"I bet if you'd been a white cop..."

Adolin sighed. "Yeah. The worst part is...I'm not even surprised. This shit happens all the time, and the outcome is always the same."

Reaching over, Kaladin squeezed his calf. "You're not even upset about yourself, are you?" he asked quietly.

"No. He could have killed kids, Kaladin..."

For a cop...Adolin was a damn good person. It was a begrudging admittance, but an admittance nevertheless. "But you stopped him. It's more than can be said for some cops..." He muttered the last part, looking at the floor.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Let's go somewhere. No sense sitting around moping."

"...no," Adolin shook his head, "you aren't getting off that easily. What did that mean?"

"...it's nothing, Adolin. Seriously. Drop. It."

"No. You have a history with cops, don't you?" the blond demanded, his eyes boring into Kaladin's own.

Kaladin met the gaze, but dropped first, sighing as he looked away. "Fine. Yes, I do. Happy?"

"...you can talk to me about it. It's not like I don't have some idea what you're going through."

"Yeah? They killed my brother," he said, grunting softly. Saying that out loud always hurt.

"...shit, Kal." Adolin reached out, laying a comforting hand on his thigh. "That..."

"It's utter bullshit, is what it is," he growled, clenching one fist tensely. "Tien hadn't _done_ anything. He was probably terrified and they just...!"

"Kal..."

"He was shopping. Walking home, and some cops had gotten a call that there was an armed black man walking around. They didn't even stop to ask questions, they just shot him. He was _fifteen_ ," Kaladin hated how his voice cracked near the end.

"We tried to get the cop that did it prosecuted, but his friends all rallied behind him and they got off by claiming the cop was afraid for his life. Utter bullshit is what it is, but..."

Adolin sighed. "Yeah, I...I get it. And I'm sorry, Kaladin..."

Kaladin scoffed, uncomfortable with the sympathy...the emotion. "Forget it. I shouldn't have even told you."

"...Kaladin."

"Let's go do something. Anything."

"Sure," Adolin agreed, sounding only a little reluctant. Not needing any further prompting, Kaladin grabbed his wheelchair.

He hated sentiment.

* * *

"...you're the physical therapist?"

"Yup."

Adolin smiled. He was actually happy about that. He was also happy to be able to start moving around more. Kaladin had helped him with simple stretches the past few days, but now he would really work at strengthening his muscles to get ready for a prosthetic.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I enjoyed watching you squirm."

"...I wasn't squirming."

"Semantics."

Adolin reached up, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Right."

Kaladin chuckled, the sound drawing more of a smile to Adolin's lips. "Okay, so maybe you weren't. I just wanted to surprise you."

"Effectively surprised," he said, smile softening. Kaladin returned it. Damn, that man was attractive...

"...right. Okay. So let's get started. It'll take a couple weeks, but we should be able to get you fitted with a prosthetic if all goes smoothly."

That sounded amazing; to be able to move himself around again... After barely a week in bed, he was already growing restless. He just wanted to get up and walk again.

"Okay, so we've checked your range of motion thoroughly. You have excellent mobility still, and you've proven more than capable of changing your positioning and of getting in and out of a wheelchair."

"It's this amazing physique of mine," Adolin said, flexing one arm. He tried and failed not to grin when Kaladin scoffed. He didn't miss the way the nurse subtly checked him out, though.

"Right, that's one part. Next, we're going to see how you handle being upright." Adolin watched as he grabbed a set of forearm crutches, setting them on the bed. "That _amazing physique_ of yours will help; you should be able to support your own weight no problem."

"Of course," he flexed again, grinning. Kaladin rolled his eyes.

"The biggest thing to note is that your centre of gravity is going to be off. Simply put—you weigh less, and it's going to unbalance you."

Adolin nodded. Despite his joking, he was paying attention.

"So let's take this slow. Give me your hand."

Adolin did so, clutching tightly as he swung his leg over the side of the bed. Meeting Kaladin's eyes, he took a deep breath...and slid forward.

His remaining leg, kept strong and limber thanks to Kaladin's simple exercises, caught him...until he pitched forward. The nurse caught him effortlessly, supporting his weight while Adolin reoriented himself.

...he may not have rushed to do so.

Straightening, he found his leg shaking slightly. This was harder than he had expected. His knee felt strained, and his ankle wobbled slightly.

"Okay, so we need to work on those joints more," Kaladin concluded. "That probably means we'll need to work on the residual limb's musculature too. I'll get you a list of strengthening exercises you can work on on your own."

"What, won't stick around to help?"

"Not when you go home. If you keep recovering this fast, you'll be home in a few days."

Adolin paused. That made sense, but he hadn't really expected it to come up so quickly.

"Try not to miss me too much."

Adolin scoffed, smirking. "It'll be difficult." And good gosh, were they flirting?

"You can do your exercises to fill the void."

"It might not be enough."

Kaladin smirked at him. "Keep your flattery to yourself, Kholin," a set of forearm crutches were shoved towards him, "and start practicing hobbling around like a three-legged horse."

"...that's a bit...rude."

"One-legged ape, then."

Taking the crutch, he whacked Kaladin lightly on the leg.

"Can't deny it, pretty boy."

"Pretty...? What happened to rich boy?"

Kaladin quirked a brow at him, but otherwise refrained from responding. Adolin swallowed. They were _definitely_ flirting, weren't they? The look on Kaladin's face certainly seemed to imply that he was doing so, and Adolin knew he sure as heck was.

"Come on, enough wasting time. We have a lot of work to do."

At least it was the enjoyable kind...


	5. Chapter 5

Two days later, Adolin was sized for a prosthetic leg. It would be another week or so until it was ready, but Adolin could not wait to start learning how to use it.

Before that, however, he was...well, he was heading home. The afternoon of the very day he was sized, Adolin packed his things and wheeled himself down to the lobby. His father followed, Adolin's duffel over one shoulder.

"I don't mind pushing you, Adolin..."

He shook his head, determinedly wheeling himself forward. It was brand new, having been purchased for Adolin after the accident. It had arrived two days before, and Dalinar had brought it with him when he came to pick Adolin up. The blond was determined to be self-sufficient, and propelling himself in the chair was one way to do that.

"Leaving so soon?"

Grinning, Adolin turned to greet Kaladin. The nurse was dressed in light blue scrubs...printed in tiny Simbas and Nalas. Adolin could not help but feel that it was intentional.

"Places to be, other beds to lay in."

Kaladin quirked a brow, but otherwise did not respond.

"Here," curious, Adolin leaned forward and accepted the piece of paper being offered to him, "that's my number. Call me if you need any help."

"...sure, yeah. Thanks."

Kaladin nodded, then strode off. Adolin watched him go for a moment, then turned back.

"Where'd you park?"

"Wait out front. I'll bring the car around."

Adolin bit back a sigh. He could take care of himself. Shit like this was exactly why he was working so hard with Kaladin. He would be visiting three times a week for the next few months, and he could not bring himself to mind. Kaladin was going to continue acting as his instructor, and that was only one reason to look forward to it.

"I can make it," he said, determined.

Dalinar met his eyes for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. It's over here," he said, gesturing. Satisfied, Adolin followed.

With his father's help, Adolin was transferred into the passenger's seat. He settled in, flicking through his phone, while Dalinar collapsed the chair.

"We've moved some of your things from your house to mine for now. You can stay at home until you're back on yo—until you feel up to living on your own again."

Adolin snorted. "Until I'm back on my feet?"

"You know I didn't mean it like that."

He rolled his eyes, not really angry. "It's fine. I appreciate your help, Father. Were's Renarin?"

"Writing his last exam. He'll be home for supper."

Good. Adolin was looking forward to seeing his little brother again. Loathe as he was to move back in with his father and brother, he wasn't quite arrogant enough to think he could manage on his own, yet.

Yet. He _would_ get there.

* * *

Adolin loved his family, he really did...but living at home again was awful. Dalinar was a rather...particular man, and his sons were expected to adhere to a certain standard of living. At home, Adolin, while not exactly a slob, was certainly no neat-freak. In short: his own standard of living was not up to his father's, and it created tension when they were under the same roof.

Couple the nitpicking with the fussing and Adolin found himself feeling trapped. Dalinar had hired a nurse to look after him, and that further frustrated Adolin, who liked to do things for himself. Being doted on night and day did not suit him. The past two days, since coming home, had almost made him miss the hospital.

Hobbling to the stairs, he tried to conceal a wince when his caretaker popped her head up from the bottom of the stairs. The house was large, but she always heard him...

"Adolin? You need a hand?" She was already coming up.

He scrambled for an excuse. "Just working on my balance. I'll be fine."

"Okay. Just let me know if you need anything! And don't you dare try those stairs on your own."

He didn't hide his sigh. Instead of replying, he turned and hobbled back to his room. He despised this doting.

The house he was living in was huge, but he had never felt so trapped.

Dropping onto his bed, the same one he had used growing up, he propped up his one remaining leg and leaned back against the headboard. Maybe someone would be free to...do something, anything...

One phone call and three text conversations later, and he had plans for the following day, but that still left him...completely, utterly bored for the moment.

Before he could rethink what he was doing, he picked up the phone and called Kaladin.

"'Lo?" a sleepy voice asked, picking up after a full seven rings.

Adolin winced. "Sorry, did I wake you up?"

"...sure did. The hell time is it?"

"Three in the afternoon."

"Huh. Three hours of sleep. New record." There was a sharp, cranky note to Kaladin's tone. Adolin ignored it.

"You have your days off now?"

"What the hell—? I mean, yeah, but why?"

"Let's do something."

"...your physio was today. I'll see you in three days."

"What, we can't hang out outside the hospital?"

"...what do you want, Kholin? I'm tired and pissed off."

"Let's get out and do something." Kaladin grunted, not saying anything. Adolin gently prodded, "Kal?"

"Call me again in about four hours," the nurse muttered, then the line went dead.

Adolin grinned to himself. That was enough of a victory for him.

* * *

Adolin waited four and a half, engrossing himself in a book. Despite the additional time, there was no answer when he picked up the landline and called back. With a sigh, he stared at the phone for a minute before dropping it back to the holder. Maybe what he had thought to be a victory was no victory at all. Clearly, Kaladin was not actually interested in hanging out.

...well, Adolin could not blame him for that, could he? They weren't exactly friends, this proved that, right? In fact, he should be bothering his own friends. If only they didn't have lives of their own.

With a sigh, he dragged himself over to his crutches. Pulling himself up, he carefully navigated the stairs. It had been long enough that his caretaker had gone home. His father popped out of the study, however, brow raised.

"Adolin? Is everything okay?"

"Looking for a snack," he replied offhandedly. "Might go outside for a bit."

"...okay. Of course. Let me know if you need anything?"

"Yup," he muttered.

To his relief, his wheelchair awaited him at the bottom. Leaning his crutches on the banister, he settled into it. Kaladin had not been kidding when he had warned that walking with the crutches would be a lot of work. He was excited for his prosthesis to come in, but at the same time, he was a little nervous. Walking with only one leg was hard on crutches...would it be harder on a fake leg? Kaladin warned him that adapting to using one was difficult. He wanted to do well...but Adolin hated failing.

After a solid ten minutes of rolling aimlessly around the ground floor of his father's house, Adolin finally parked by the television. He was in the process of transferring himself to the sofa when his phone started buzzing incessantly. Dropping back into the chair, he tugged the phone out, glancing at the screen.

... _Kaladin_?

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

"Uh, at home?"

"Yeah, I get that. You coming out?"

"Uh, where?"

"You didn't see my texts, did you?"

"Uh..." Pulling the phone from his ear, he checked his notifications—sure enough, there were two missed texts from Kaladin. One from four minutes earlier, another from nearly twenty. The first stated that Kaladin was coming to pick him up, the second that he was outside. "Nope. Can't say I did."

"Figures. You coming out then or not?"

"Yeah. I mean...yeah. Just give me a few?"

"You've already had a few. Make it fast."

Adolin hung up, hurrying back to the stairs. He got himself up them as quickly as possible, then began fumbling to change. He had picked something out earlier, in case Kaladin had wanted to go out, and he pulled it on now, tying off the empty pant leg.

Grabbing his keys, phone, and wallet, he yelled a farewell to his father and clunked down the stairs. Stepping into his shoe, he stomped it on, leaning on his crutches as he did so, then hurried outside.

It was a bit of a hike down the driveway, to the house's gate. He was winded when he arrive, but eagerly buzzed himself out through the foot gate. Sure enough, Kaladin sat, flipping through his phone, in an older, but functional, blue Camry. He clumped his way to the car, greeting Kaladin with a grin when the man spotted him.

"Took you long enough," Kaladin remarked as Adolin opened the back door, tossing the crutches into the back, then he slid into the passenger seat.

"Next time you want to pick someone up, wait for a response."

Kaladin shrugged, putting the car in drive. It started smoothly enough, despite its age. "You seemed desperate enough earlier. Figured there was no chance you'd refuse."

"I'm not desperate," he countered, offended.

"Right. That's why you called me, all but _begging_ to go out. That's why you nearly fell on your face trying to get to the car."

Adolin flushed slightly. He had hoped the man hadn't seen his stumble. Still, he huffed loudly. "For some reason, I thought I liked spending time with your grouchy ass. My mind is changing, though."

Kaladin smirked, staring ahead at the road. "I can take you home."

"Don't you dare..."

"Where are we going, anyway?"

"Dunno. Just driving?"

For a drive? Adolin could get behind that. He didn't have to walk, at least.

"I can't tell if your silence is good or bad."

"Let's just get McDonald's, first?"

Kaladin chuckled. "Right. Let's hit up a drive-thru."


	6. Chapter 6

With a hot carton of fries, a container of nuggets, and a chocolate shake, Adolin felt much better. The company was severely improved from the silence of his room, too. Though they hadn't spoken much on the way to the restaurant, and spoke even less as they sat in the parking lot, munching on supper, the silence was at least companionable.

"Rock would cringe if he saw me eating this," Kaladin muttered, driving up to the garbage to throw out their trash.

Adolin raised a brow. "Rock?" he asked, buckling his seatbelt again as they drove off.

"Friend of mine. He's a chef. Doesn't think highly of fast food."

"Most people don't, at least they claim not to. We all eat it anyway."

Kaladin grunted. "Fair enough. Not Rock, though."

"Why the hell do you—is his name actually Rock?"

"Nah. But none of us can say his actual name, so we nicknamed him."

"We?"

"My other friends and I..."

That made sense, obviously, but it was not his real question. "It was an opening to talk more about your other friends. You must do something outside work."

Kaladin shrugged. "Video games. Spend time with friends."

Adolin sighed in good-natured frustration. "You're so eloquent. Any hobbies?"

"I have my pilot's licence."

Adolin started at that, genuinely impressed. "Seriously? Can you take me flying sometime?"

Kaladin sighed, muttering something that sounded like, "They always ask...", and shaking his head. "Sure, if you rent the plane."

"...how much?"

"A few thousand for a couple hours."

Adolin whistled softly. "I bet you don't get out much..."

"Not exactly."

Adolin filed the information away.

"How about a girlfriend?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Broke up six months ago. Nothing since. How about you, rich boy? I'm not answering all the questions tonight."

"No girlfriend. I also enjoy video games. Hobbies include fencing, horseback riding, and archery."

"...what are you, a medieval knight?"

Adolin chuckled. "I enjoy it."

"Right. Weirdo."

Adolin smiled at the teasing, then his face fell. It would be hard to keep some of that up, now...

"You're brooding, blondie."

Blondie? "I don't brood."

"...right. And the sky is green."

"Why do you care?"

"...you're my friend?"

"Since when?"

"Since I came and took you for a drive when you were too sad and pathetic to see your other friends."

The snarky insult was strangely touching. Adolin found himself grinning. "Admit it, you like me."

"You're tolerable. Sometimes."

Adolin elbowed him lightly. "So, where are we going?"

Kaladin shrugged. "Nowhere. Anywhere. I like to just drive sometime. It helps me think."

"Right. Let's drive, then."

They drove. Before long, they had left the city, taking a back road Adolin had not even known existed. It was poorly paved, and dense trees lined the road. They saw little traffic.

"...why policing?"

The unexpected question took Adolin by surprise. Glancing over, he caught Kaladin's eye briefly. "What do you mean?"

"Why take up policing?"

"...most people think it's a noble calling," he replied wryly.

"I'm not most people."

"I hadn't noticed," he muttered under his breath. With a sigh, he shrugged. "I wanted to help people. There's enough corruption in the forces in this country. Figured I could be one officer I knew wasn't corrupt."

Kaladin grunted. "Good enough, Adolin."

"...I'm sorry about what happened to your brother," he said softly. "Did you...wanna talk about it some more?"

"No."

Feeling awkward, he asked. "You, uh...sure?"

He got no response, so Adolin let it drop, turning his attention back to the passing scenery. Dusk was settling, and before much longer, he spotted a young buck watching them from the side of the road.

"Kal, watch—" he warned.

His friend nodded, glancing at it briefly. "You see a lot of wildlife out here."

That caught Adolin's interest, and he stared out the windshield a little more eagerly. "It's a nice night."

"Open the window if you want."

Adolin did so, resting his arm on the ledge and letting the warm air tousle his blond hair. It was nice out, and before much longer he spotted a fox slinking into the ditch. He went to point it out to Kaladin, only to find the man eyeing him rather openly. He raised a brow, mouth opening to speak.

"Your hair's a mess."

"It's a carefully calculated look."

"Calculated by...what? Open window? Is that how you do your hair every day—you know what, don't answer that."

Adolin laughed. "At least I own a hairbrush."

"I'll teach you to use it whenever you're ready."

"Use it for...what, exactly?" he asked, grinning.

"...that sounds awful."

Adolin snorted a laugh. "It does, doesn't it?"

"I'll admit that I've had weird shit up my ass before, but no hairbrushes."

Adolin blinked at the blatant statement, turning to stare at Kaladin. "Uh...okay?"

"I'm flirting with you."

"...I kinda got that. You're just doing an awful job of it. I thought being lame was _my_ job—no, lame is too nice. That's just weird."

"Kinky."

"...yeah...no. That image is _not_ kinky. You're really bad at this."

Kaladin grunted. "At least I'm trying."

"Pull over."

Kaladin glanced at him, brow raised. "Why?"

"Just do it."

With an audible sigh, the man complied. "Happy?"

Adolin unbuckled his seatbelt, leaning over to grasp the man's chin. Then he kissed Kaladin. The man pulled back marginally.

"...you could try for a little subtlety," Kaladin breathed against his lips.

"Subtlety like yours?" Adolin retorted, kissing him again. This time, Kaladin responded.

* * *

It was well passed dark when Kaladin dropped him off. Adolin felt a great deal better than he had that afternoon, however. Dragging himself up the stairs to his room, he dropped his crutches to the floor and fell onto his bed.

The rest of the drive had passed with relaxed chatter. They had talked about shared interests, schooling, some happier childhood memories... Kaladin had relaxed more the longer they drove, allowing the conversation to turn to slightly more personal topics.

He had learned a few new things about Kaladin, though there could be no doubt the man was still fairly closed off with him.

He sat up, striping down to his boxers then dragging himself to his en suite bathroom to ready himself for bed. It was funny, he noted as he brushed his teeth, how often Kaladin acted as though he disliked him. He was all bark, though...and clearly it was a front.

Kaladin _definitely_ liked him, Adolin noted with a grin. The man was difficult to get a read on, at least until one realised that _permanent grouch_ was his resting face, and he barely knew how to smile. Despite that, the man could enjoy himself, and luckily enough, Adolin was good at smiling for both.

He fell back into bed, grinning stupidly to himself. Good grief, he felt like an overexcited teenager again. He really liked Kaladin, though. The man was smart, witty, attractive, interesting, motivated, nice beneath all that grouch...

For the first time in two weeks, he fell asleep thinking of something other than his missing leg.


	7. Chapter 7

His phone was ringing. Without even glancing at the caller id, Kaladin answered, "Talk."

"Hi to you too, Kal."

"Moash, hey." He sat up, turning down the television. His actions dislodged Syl, who meowed in annoyance. He ignored her. "What's up?"

"Wondering if you wanted to get some drinks with us."

"I—"

"Okay, let me rephrase. You're coming out with us. Be there at eleven to get you."

...ten thirty. Not a lot of time to get ready. Grunting noncommittally, he hung up and stood, heading for the bathroom. Ten minutes to shower, five to dry off, ten more to pick clothes and dress, and he was ready and waiting when the cab pulled up outside.

He pocketed his wallet and phone, and headed out the door, locking it behind him. His phone buzzed as he jogged down the stairs, but he ignored it; it would just be Moash telling him to hurry up.

Teft and Moash greeted him when he pulled the door open. He scoffed, taking his seat. "Yeah, I'm here."

"Good to see you too, Kal. Really. You're always a source of sunshine," Moash muttered, elbowing him.

"You dragged me along."

"Because you haven't come with us in weeks. What have you been up to, anyway?" Teft asked.

"Working."

"You're always working, Kal," Moash countered. "You've been unusually distracted lately."

"I've had a big project. It's taking a lot of my time."

"...your free time, too? I tried calling you all evening. You didn't answer."

Kaladin sighed, turning to stare out the window. "Guy lost his leg. He's going through a lot of therapy. Now, can we change the subject? I get enough of work at work."

"Right right, fine. We're doing fine, by the way. Thanks for asking."

Kaladin scoffed. "No way, Moash. You've barely let me get a word in. You can't pull that card."

Moash chuckled. "Okay, yeah, fine."

"How's school going?"

"...well enough, I guess. I'm so sick of papers."

Kaladin laughed dryly. "Yeah. I don't miss that."

"Neither do I," Teft said.

"It's been like...fifty years since you've written a paper, Teft," Moash countered.

"I still remember it—and I'm not that old."

Kaladin smiled faintly at their exchange. "Okay, so where are we going?"

"Shattered Keg. Rock and Lopin are meeting us there."

"Sounds good."

A few minutes later, they were pulling in. After getting conned into paying the driver, Kaladin followed the other two men inside, greeting their other friends at the table with a wave.

"Gancho!"

"Lopin, Rock," he nodded in greeting to each as he pulled up a chair.

Despite his own reservations about coming, Kaladin found himself enjoy drinks with his friends. They were a motley crew, hailing from all over, and they never failed to make him smile.

Rock and Lopin got into yet another drinking game, and Kaladin found himself watching the one-armed man. Lopin had lived with one limb as long as Kaladin could remember, and it never seemed to hamper him.

He stood, taking his drink with him as he moved to sit beside Lopin. Deftly, he plucked the shot glass out of the man's hand and downed it himself.

"Gancho! If you wanted to—"

"I need to ask you something, Lopin. Need you a little sober."

The man laughed, slamming one palm onto the table. "What is it, eh Gancho? What can The Lopin do for you?"

He hesitated, then nodded to the missing arm. "What was it like?" he asked curiously.

"What's this now, Kal?" Moash asked, slinging an arm over Kaladin's shoulders. "Waaaaay too heavy a topic for party night."

"Lay off, Moash," he muttered, shrugging his friend off.

"Oh, come on. You're like...a physiotherapist, right? Why not just ask your patients?" Moash demanded, not deterred in the slightest.

"This is about a patient," he finally admitted. "He's depressed, but tries his best to hide it. I just...I've read the books and studied all this shit, but there's nothing like a first-hand testimony."

"Hard at first, but nothing The Lopin couldn't overcome. Takes time though, eh Gancho?"

"Anything I can do to help him?"

"Seriously, Kal. Wasn't it you who said you get enough of work at work?" Moash asked.

"Let him be independent. Good for the mind," Lopin said.

"I know that. I just—"

"And his cousins? Family and friends? Do they know, eh?"

...a good point. Adolin did seem stressed out by his living situation. Maybe he should have a chat with the father and brother.

"Right. Thanks, Lopin."

"And his mind? It is very taxing. Be sure he is seeing someone to help. Talking to friends is good, but perhaps you know this. He must speak to someone more removed from the situation."

Kaladin frowned. He thought he understood. "Okay, Lopin. Thanks."

"Great. Now can we get back to drinking?" Moash demanded, slamming a shot glass down in front of Kaladin.

Eyeing his friend, he downed it.

"Better. Who next?"

Rock let out a guttural laugh. "Such weak American stomachs! I will show you how drinking is done by Canadians!"

The banter carried on well into the night. It wasn't until nearly three am that they stumbled into cabs, headed back to their respective residencies. Headed in the same direction, Moash and Kaladin opted to split one.

Cheek pressed against the window, he watched the lights of the city pass by. He wasn't pass-out level drunk, but he was far from sober.

"Glad you came tonight, Kal." Despite pressuring his friends to drink, Moash had had comparatively little compared to Rock and Lopin. "We missed having you with us. Even if all you talk about is work."

"...I like him."

"Like...who?"

"Adolin. He's cute. Kissed me."

Moash looked at him in surprise. "Wait, seriously? And you didn't bring this up until now why? Who is he? Have we met?"

Kaladin shook his head. They were on his street, now.

"Well, dammit, when can we meet him? You guys like...an item now? Shit, Kal..."

"Eventually. Up to him."

"Uh, no way. Not getting out of this that easily. Friday. We're going out Friday and you are bringing mystery boyfriend."

Kaladin grunted. Why not? What could go wrong?

He waved off further goading as they pulled into the parking lot. He moved to get out, but Moash caught his arm. "Text him now."

"It's nearly fo—"

"Do it. He'll see it in the morning."

With a sigh, he pulled out his phone.

 _Moash says frudY. B their._

"Happy?" he asked, shoving his phone away.

Moash nodded, letting him go. "No backing out!"

Kaladin grunted as he climbed out, clomping up to his apartment for a few hours of drunken sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Adolin stared at his phone, trying to make sense of the text he had received at 3:47 am. Be where? Friday, it seemed? That was his best guess, anyway. Finally, he sighed.

 _What?_

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed. He picked it up, checking the message.

 _Hm?_

 _I dunno. You texted me._

 _...when?_ Before Adolin could reply, his phone buzzed again. _...nvm, I checked. Fuck. Sorry. Was drunk._ _  
_  
 _Translation?_

 _...Moash wants you to come out with us on Friday. You don't have to_.

Adolin found himself grinning stupidly. _What time?_

 _Dunno. Let you know when I do. Now...I'm gonna sleep off this hangover._

Adolin chuckled at that. _Kk. Gl._

Setting his phone aside, Adolin laid back, staring up at the ceiling. It seemed like a small thing, but to be invited out with Kaladin's friends...well, it was exciting. He found himself wondering what Kaladin had said about him to get this Moash to invite him out. More importantly, how had Kaladin introduced him? They were dating, right? They hadn't talked about it, but they _had_ made out, and now Kaladin was inviting him out.

Whatever. He was not going to lay here thinking about this. He had exercises to do, and an appointment later to get his prothesis. He could not wait to try it out. To walk again.

He pulled himself out of bed, using his crutch to get himself to the bathroom. Before anyone could jump on him to try and 'help,' he had shut and locked the door. A chair had been left in the shower for his use, and he stripped and dropped onto it, turning the shower on.

He was getting better at getting around with only one leg, but he still needed assistance for a number of things. Part of being disabled, he was learning, was accepting that he needed some...accommodations. Like the chair. He hated that he needed it, felt no end of frustration that it was necessary, but standing on one leg and fumbling around with the shower was not worth it. He had tried it the first day he'd been allowed to take a full shower, and it just...had not been worth it.

He showered, then hurried to dress, shutting his bedroom door firmly when his father popped up to offer his assistance. The consideration was...nice, but more so it was just annoying. He could dress himself.

He opted for a pair of dark jeans and a red, collared shirt. Nice, but not overly formal. With careful fingers, he pinned up the left leg, letting out a soft sigh as he did so. Sometimes, it still felt...surreal. Like he would wake up and be whole again. Those moments were coming less and less often, though, and he steeled himself, standing and heading downstairs for breakfast.

His appointment was at two that afternoon, so he had a few hours to kill beforehand. As he was browsing the kitchen, debating which exciting cereal to eat, his phone buzzed from his pocket. He opened it, face splitting into a grin as he read the message. His cousins had come to town, and they wanted to take him out for breakfast. He quickly replied the affirmative, shutting the cupboard door with perhaps more force than was required.

They arrived ten minutes later. Stepping into his shoe, Adolin hobbled to the door—at least they knew the gate code. He should probably give it to Kaladin, he mused.

Jasnah's girlfriend, Shallan, was driving. Her red Mercedes pulled up in front of the house, and Adolin hopped down the steps with an unfeigned eagerness. In an uncharacteristic display of altruism, Jasnah vacated the front seat, holding the door for Adolin as he clomped over. Adolin raised an eyebrow.

"I'm smaller, not bigger, Jasnah; I can fit in the back."

She met his look with a flat stare of her own. "It is good to see you too, cousin."

"Adolin!" Shallan called from the driver's seat, beckoning for him to get in. "Come on, sit with me." Without further prompting, he climbed in. Maybe he should just enjoy the doting.

"How are you feeling, Adolin?"

"Fine, Elhokar. Same as I was when we talked two days ago." They meant well, but his good mood was evaporating.

"You could at least pretend to be happy to see us," Jasnah said coolly, having climbed into the back next to her brother.

"...I am, Jas. Really. It's just—I'm tired of getting fawned over," he admitted.

Shallan glanced at him, catching his eye and offering a small smile and a nod. "Well, I, for one, am relieved. With twenty percent of your body gone, I was afraid I was going to have to reduce my quips to eighty percent capacity. Rather, it seems you're overdue for some jests."

Adolin found himself smiling. "Kaladin and I settled on fifteen."

"I can work with an extra five," Shallan said.

"Who's Kaladin?" Elhokar asked, leaning forward to poke his head into the front.

"Oh, he's my physiotherapist, or something. And he was my nurse." _And_...? He quickly banished the last thought.

"Did you say you were getting your prothesis today?" Jasnah asked.

"Yeah, at two."

"Want us to take you?" Shallan offered. "You are, after all, more portable now. I bet even I could carry you." That, from the short, young woman, was amusing.

Adolin grinned. "You're welcome to come, but I know my father wants to be there. Renarin might be coming, too."

"Wonderful, a family outing."

"Try not to sound _too_ excited, Jas..." Shallan teased.

"Hardly. I am overjoyed."

Adolin rolled his eyes, smiling. Coddling aside, today was starting off pretty darn well.

* * *

After a wonderful morning out with his cousins, Adolin was dropped off back at home. Jasnah had to make a stop, but they promised to meet him at the clinic after. For now, he climbed into his father's car, settling into the front seat.

Renarin joined them, sitting in the back, and they were off. Silence reigned over the vehicle for several minutes. At long last, Dalinar broke it with a sigh.

"Your nurse, Kaladin, called."

That was a surprise. Glancing over, Adolin frowned slightly. "...what did he say?"

"Well, he said you were getting a lot stronger. He thinks you'll be able to start seeing a proper physiotherapist soon."

"...oh." Was Kaladin trying to get rid of him? That didn't make sense.

"He also suggested you...start seeing a psychologist."

"...he did?"

"He mentioned—and Renarin, you need to hear this too—that we might have been...overly protective of you. I apologise, if that is the case."

"...is that true, Adolin?" Renarin asked.

"Yeah, I mean...I guess I can't deny it." Though why Kaladin had to stick his nose into that, Adolin was not sure. It kind of annoyed him to know the man had decided to meddle to that extent. Now that it was out, though, he found himself speaking. "It gets a bit frustrating. I can take care of myself a lot better than you seem to think I can."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Dalinar asked, voice soft.

"...you're only trying to help. I guess," he shrugged, "I just didn't want to seem ungrateful."

"You should have told us," Renarin said quietly.

"It's fine. It's not as bad as you seem to think it was. Just—it got frustrating sometimes."

"We will aspire to do better, won't we Renarin?"

"Of course, Father."

"And Adolin? Please, never hesitate to come to is if you need anything—even if what you need is space."

"...yeah, right, okay. Thanks, Father." His family was pretty great, he had to admit.

Dalinar reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "You have nothing to thank me for."

"Me, either," Renarin added.

"Okay, but thanks anyway."


	9. Chapter 9

The fitting went well. It felt strange. The leg was lighter than his real one had been, but it was heavier than not having the leg. For the second time in as many weeks, he found himself staggering around, off-balance. He had something to catch himself on this time, however, and he was quickly adapting for the prosthesis.

"Any questions?" the specialist asked.

Adolin glanced to his father, who sat waiting in a chair in the corner. "Can I drive?"

"Should be able to," the young woman, Doctor Jenkins, said. "It'll take practice, but it's entirely possible. Because it's your left leg, that makes it even easier. Your car may need slight modifications, and you can't drive a manual, but you're young and healthy. You'll be fine."

Adolin grinned. He had been afraid to hope.

"Anything he should know, Doctor?" Dalinar asked.

"It's going to take a lot of practice to learn to walk with that limb. With time, he should be able to return to nearly a normal level of activity. A prosthetic limb is more work, however; there is no shame in taking other means of transportation."

Adolin nodded. They had bought a wheelchair for a reason. Kaladin had even suggested it.

"I have the name of a physiotherapist here. It would be a good idea to meet with him. He'll help you really get back on your feet." The woman smiled, clearly intending the pun.

Adolin snorted in dry amusement. "Right, thanks. But what's wrong with the man I've been seeing?"

"He has rehab training, but he's not trained for the level of rehabilitation you need."

"Yeah, okay." That made sense.

"Anything else you need to know?"

"Can I try walking?" The few steps he had tried to take had not gone well.

Adolin's request was greeted with a few chuckles. At the doctor's nod, he took his father's arm. Wobbling for a moment, he took a deep breath...and stepped forward.

It felt...unnatural. The limb didn't quite bend with the suspension of a natural limb. Furthermore, he had no _feeling_ in it. He realised very quickly how difficult it would be to navigate uneven terrain—his leg just did not have the sensory information to alter the distension and extension necessary for simple things like stepping up a curb or, Heaven forbid, climbing stairs.

"...this is going to take some practice."

"Hours and hours," Doctor Jenkins agreed. "But you're young and healthy. I have no doubt you'll catch on quickly. Once you do, you'll be able to walk and run no problem."

"I can't wait."

"Good. Then do all of your exercises and get in touch with a proper physiotherapist. You'll be up and about in no time."

"Right. I will," Adolin promised.

"I'll see to it he does, Doctor," Dalinar added.

"Good. I'll hold you both to it. Now, if you have no further questions...?"

They didn't, so after bidding her farewell, they headed home. This time, Adolin and Renarin both went with their cousins, Adolin enthusiastically sharing the good news. He couldn't wait to drive again.

They went out to supper, an unplanned celebration of Adolin's new leg. He found that he couldn't stop grinning the whole night. After losing his leg, he couldn't have imagined feeling this...happy again. But he did.

There was only one thing missing, and the moment he was home, he picked up the phone, calling Kaladin.

"How'd the fitting go?"

"Hi to you too, Kal," he muttered, chuckling softly.

"Right. Hi. How'd it go?"

Stubborn. "Really well. She said I can drive again."

"Sure, I don't see why not. You can run and jump and skip too, if you want."

"Good. You're coming with me."

From the other end of the phone, Kaladin scoffed. "Not a chance."

"At least for a drive?"

"Maybe once I'm sure you won't get me killed."

Adolin laughed. "Fine. Nice to know you have confidence in me."

"As much as you deserve."

"Ass."

"Anything else?" Kaladin asked, smoothly switching topics.

"She's sending me to another physiotherapist," he admitted.

"Probably a good idea. You need more than I can do."

"...I'll miss our visits."

"Oh good grief, Adolin..."

Adolin chuckled, not giving him a chance to continue as he added, "In fact, I miss you now. Can I see you tonight?"

"...we're going out tomorrow night. Isn't that good enough?"

"Come over."

"...your father—"

"You're not my nurse anymore. We can officially move to...friends." Or whatever they were. "Besides, we never finished Return of the King."

"...fine. I'll be over in thirty."

Adolin grinned. "Great. See you then." Hanging up, he turned to his closet.

What to wear...

* * *

Kaladin arrived within the hour. Adolin had texted him the gate code, so he entered it now, parking in the visitors' lot. He was surprised when Adolin himself greeted him at the door.

"Wheelchair?" he asked, brow raised.

"...the leg's a lot of work," the blond admitted, looking a little sheepish.

Kaladin offered a small smile. "It's a hard adjustment," he agreed. Taking the chair's handles, he stepped forward...then paused. "Where...?"

"My room." Kaladin raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, Adolin quickly continued. "I have a T.V. and couch in there."

"Where is it?"

"Upstairs," Adolin said, propelling himself forward and prompting Kaladin to let go.

He followed Adolin to the bottom of the stairs, where the blond shifted to crutches. Kaladin had to admit, he was both pleased and impressed as he watched the blond clomp his way upstairs. His mobility was really improving.

Adolin led them to the correct door—and seriously, who needed a house this big?—and shit that was a big room.

"...I thought this was your bedroom?" he asked, noting the lack of a, well, bed.

"It's through the door over there."

...rich people. Rich cops, but he could stand to see past that, now. These cops were okay. At least, this specific one was. Dalinar seemed pretty okay, too.

Adolin grunted, sitting down on the sofa and setting his crutch aside. Glancing over, Kaladin raised a brow. "I'm handling the movie again, I take it?"

Adolin winked cheekily. "Of course, nurse."

Rolling his eyes, Kaladin took a moment to locate the movie and figure out the player. Once the movie was playing the correct scene, Kaladin dropped into the room's leather armchair. Comfy.

"You know," Adolin muttered, "we aren't in the hospital anymore."

Kaladin glanced over, frowning. "...so?"

Adolin stared at him, disbelief clear, then sighed. "Come over here," he grumbled, stabbing the couch with one finger.

"...uh."

"Oh good grief, Kal. Come sit here. _With me_."

Was that uncertainty in Adolin's eyes. He hesitated only a moment longer before rising and striding over to the sofa. With a good-natured sigh, he sat down. "Happy?"

"Not yet." Adolin met his eyes fiercely, holding his gaze.

Kaladin had, of course, settled on the opposite end of the couch. Adolin, it seemed, was not satisfied with that, and if Kaladin was completely honest...neither was he. Shaking his head with a small smirk, he laid down on his back, head propped up on a pillow.

Adolin squirmed in next to him, on his side against the back of the couch. Kaladin hesitated a moment, then wrapped an arm around him.

"Much better," the blond said, resting his head on Kaladin's shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist.

"Comfortable?"

"Do you have to ask?"

Kaladin chuckled softly, glancing down with an admittedly soft smile. "Guess not."

Kaladin was not terribly surprised when Adolin fell asleep. He left the movie playing, but didn't pay it much mind as he scanned the blond's sleeping features.

Adolin was coming along well, he was happy to see that. The oft-depressed young man he had sat with throughout long nights in the hospital was slowly but surely coming around, and Kaladin was seeing the good humour that existed underneath. He had to admit, he liked it.

 _Into the West_ began playing, drawing his attention to the movie's credits. Fumbling for the remote, he flicked the television off once he found it. With a fond sigh, he pulled out his phone and headed online, killing time while he let Adolin nap.

It wasn't long before the blond shifted, groaning slightly as blue eye flickered open and he cracked a yawn.

"Have a good nap?"

"...how long was I out for?"

"Nearly an hour."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"You looked so cute," he replied flatly, still not looking away from his phone.

Adolin huffed, snatching the phone and setting it on the table. "Enough. Pay attention to me."

Kaladin chuckled. "Someone's needy..."

"Damn right," Adolin muttered, rolling fully on top of him. "I'm a man who knows what he wants."

Kaladin couldn't complain when Adolin kissed him. Wrapping his arms around the man's hips, he returned it enthusiastically, grinning into his mouth as he did so.

"For only being eighty-five percent of a man, you're not a bad kisser."

Adolin smacked his arm. "You're an ass, nurse boy."

Kaladin chuckled, and dragged him back down for a kiss.


	10. Chapter 10

Adolin was excited. It might not seem like much, but somehow being invited to meet Kaladin's friends felt like...an initiation; a proper initiation into Kaladin's life. It felt good.

The cab was a few minutes late, but Adolin couldn't bring himself to be bothered, because Kaladin was in it. He hadn't had much time to practice with his leg, and his stump was bothering him a bit from what he had managed to get done, so he left it behind, wheeling himself out in his chair instead—he had considered crutches, but decided against them. Drunk Adolin did not want to try to navigate _that_ mess.

Kaladin got out, helping him into the van and packing the chair into the back. Adolin offered him a grin. He was definitely looking forward to tonight.

"Where are we going?" Adolin asked, buckling himself in.

"Shattered Keg. Moash and Rock are meeting us there."

"Your friends?" Dumb question, and Kaladin sent him a flat stare. "No, they're ponies."

"No need to be rude," he huffed, flicking his thigh with a grin. "Honestly, it's a wonder you have any friends."

"At least I'm providing evidence of mine. I've yet to see any of yours..."

"You're a rude asshole."

Kaladin laughed. "I don't see any evidence disproving me..."

Adolin smacked his thigh, staring pointedly out the window. He wasn't really angry, but Kaladin was still a jerk who deserved to be ignored—jokingly, of course.

Kaladin's warm palm settled on his left thigh, and after a moment, Adolin rested his hand atop it. They said nothing more until the cab dropped them off. Kaladin helped him into his chair, and then they headed in.

"Kal! And is that—?" asked one man, half-standing as they neared. At the table he was seated at, two other men glanced over also.

"John Cena? Sure is."

"Excuse Kaladin," Adolin said, "he's a rude prick."

"We know. Nice to meet you...Adolin, was it? I'm Moash, this is Rock," he indicated the tall man still seated at the table, "and Lopin," the third and final man.

"Between us, we make one person, eh gancho?"

Adolin blinked, Lopin drawing his attention. Indeed, the man was, to his surprise, missing one arm. Adolin couldn't help but grin. "One and a half."

"You can be the half," Lopin countered.

The larger man, Rock, laughed loudly. "This thing, it is not fair. You are in possession of enough personality for six!"

"At least The Lopin possesses more personality than a rock, unlike some."

The tall man, Rock, bellowed a laugh.

Adolin liked them already.

"So a cop, huh? Didn't know our Kal was into the lawkeeping type..."

Adolin shrugged at Moash's statement, taking a sip of his beer as he did so. "It was my charming personality and handsome smile that won him over."

From across the table, Kaladin grunted. "You mean _despite_ your _insufferable_ personality, I manage to tolerate you."

Adolin smirked. "But you don't deny my overwhelmingly good looks."

Kaladin grinned at him over the rim of his mug. "I'm not blind."

The unexpected compliment left Adolin momentarily speechless.

Rock glanced up from the game of cards he was playing with Lopen—if game it could be called. The one-armed man was well passed sober, and Adolin was not entirely certain the thrashing Rock was giving him was entirely ethical. Or legal.

"Ah, so he admits this thing!"

"...I'm dating him, Rock."

Adolin blinked. Were they...? Well, he supposed that after the previous day's events, that was probably a good word for it. He liked it better than 'friends with benefits', at any rate.

"He admits this thing, too!"

Kaladin sighed. "What did you think?"

"We thought a lot, Kal," Moash muttered, "because it's impossible to get you to say anything unless you're drunk, and even then it's easier to keep Lopin sober at a bar than get you to talk."

Kaladin looked peeved, and Adolin didn't bother to hold back a chuckle. "Well...let's play a game."

"You have something in mind?" Moash asked, cutting off any chance of Kaladin responding.

"Never have I ever."

"Done! And you aren't getting out of it, Kal," Moash insisted.

Kaladin sighed, but did not argue.

"Everyone knows the rules, right?" Adolin asked, waving for another round. "We take turns saying something we haven't done, then anyone who has done it takes a drink."

Moash nodded. "Okay. But we leave Lopin out. He's had enough."

"...he seems busy anyway," Kaladin muttered, noting that the man was chatting up a redheaded woman with a pretty smile.

"Good, then let's play," Adolin said, grinning as their drinks arrived.

Much to Adolin's surprise, the first few rounds were surprisingly tame, as everyone tested out the rules and limits...and got more drunk. Unsurprisingly, things devolved as the night wore on.

"Never have I ever...had a threesome," Moash said, smirking. Nobody took a drink at that one, and he sighed. "Fine. Adolin?"

"...hm. Never have I ever lit something on fire that should not be on fire. Either intentionally or by accident."

With a roll of the eyes, Moash took a drink. "It was only the chemistry lab..."

Kaladin snorted. "Never have I ever...lost a limb."

Glowering in mock anger, Adolin took a gulp. "You're asking for it, nurse boy..."

Kaladin just snorted.

"It is my go! Never have I ever...slept with a cop," Rock exclaimed, a knowing smirk on his lips.

Kaladin froze, then slowly took a drink.

Adolin watched as Moash's eyes widened, then a broad grin lit up his face. "Ooookay...never have I ever slept with anyone at this table."

Grinning over his mug, Adolin took a drink. Looking annoyed, Kaladin did the same.

Laughing, Adolin jumped in. "Never have I ever slept with myself."

"...that could be taken two ways, Ad," Moash said, brow raised.

Adolin scoffed, but amended. "Never have I ever had sex with me."

"I hate you all," Kaladin griped, taking a drink.

The table dissolved into laughter, at Kaladin's expense. Taking a drink of his own, Adolin winked at him, eventually making the stoic nurse crack a smile.

Much better.


	11. and in Health

"You know...I think I'm okay with the verdict."

Kaladin set down the box he was carrying, turning to Adolin with a look of unchecked shock. "What—Adolin... _how_...?"

Adolin sighed, then shrugged. "Okay, maybe that's a stretch. I can live with it, is what I mean. It's frustrating as all hell, but I can't do anything except for keep going, can I? Moping and complaining won't give me back my leg."

Kaladin met his gaze, then shrugged wryly. He was surprised by Adolin's confession, but not displeased by it. Some things you could fight...others, you had to let go of and move on. He would never be okay with his brother's death, for one thing, but if he kept mindlessly hating cops, where would that take him?

Well, he'd be single again pretty fast. Oh, Adolin wasn't a duty cop any longer, but the precinct still found plenty of work for him to do. Paperwork, research...supervising. The blond could definitely not claim boredom, even if Kaladin did know that he missed fieldwork.

The point was, Kaladin understood that sometimes you had to move on with your life, even when it sucked. It seemed Adolin was coming to the same realisation.

"I...get that, yeah."

"It's been long enough," Adolin continued, unprompted. Nearly ten months had passed since the shooting, "I can move on."

Kaladin hesitated, then moved to sit on the couch, patting the spot beside him. Obligingly, Adolin joined him, and Kaladin slung an arm over his shoulders. "You really mean that?"

"I do," he said, perhaps a touch too fast. "I mean...yeah, I do. At least, I'm going to try. It's like with my leg. I was so depressed at first, but over time, I learned to just be glad I was still alive. I can live a damn good life with one leg, got a cute boyfriend along the way, _and_ I can make you push me around when I'm feeling lazy," he replied with a grin.

Kaladin chuckled at that, pecking his temple. "Fiancé. And any time."

They stayed on the sofa for a moment longer, before Kaladin sighed, standing. "We have more boxes to carry."

"You get them. It's your stuff."

Kaladin sighed. "Get your ass moving before I cut off your other leg."

Before Adolin could respond, the door swung open, admitting a grinning Shallan. "Come on! We're going out for supper. You two are coming too!"

Kaladin sighed while Adolin let out a soft whoop. Figured he would be happy to put off the work. Nothing like his father, there...

"Where are we going?" the blond asked her, already heading for the door.

Kaladin watched them for a moment with a small smile. She'd be family, soon, as would all of the Kholins. He looked forward to it.

"Kal! C'mon! We can get the rest of your stuff later."

He sighed, but followed. They _could_ finish moving him into Adolin's apartment tomorrow. For now, he would accept the distraction.

"We need to pick up Syl on the way back," he called, closing and locking the door to their apartment. "She won't forgive me if I leave her alone tonight."

They were two damaged people, but perhaps together...they could move on and heal along the way.

* * *

 _Dalinar got them a plane for their wedding, just sayin'._

 _Hope you enjoyed. This'll be it for my Kadolin fics…at least until Oathbringer comes out. Then we shall see…_


End file.
